Chuck's Birthday Wish
by mellowship
Summary: There's only one thing Chuck wants for his birthday, but is Blair too stubborn to grant that wish? One-shot.


Disclaimer: Don't own GG or any of its characters.

**Chuck's Birthday Wish**

"You know what I want for my birthday?" Chuck Bass whispered into his fiancé's ear, his voice rough and teasing.

The soon-to-be Blair Bass bit her lip as the flush of excitement colored her porcelain cheeks. "I think I have an idea," she replied playfully.

Chuck brushed his hand over Blair's chest, his fingers flicking open the top button on Blair's conservative cream blouse with ease. He loved teasing her, especially as in the early years of their courtship, it was Blair that had done most of the teasing. "Actually, you'll be quite surprised. I want you to - "

Blair cut him off, pressing her lips to Chuck's. Pulling out of the kiss, Blair then rubbed her chin in mock contemplation. "Let me guess. You want a strip show? A lap dance? I suppose I can arrange that," she said mischievously, running her perpetually manicured fingers down Chuck's thin but toned bicep.

Abruptly, Chuck stood up and put on his navy blue suit jacket. Blair eyed him both confused and a little bit hurt that he rejected her advances. Chuck suddenly turned to Blair, smirking devilishly. "As tempting as both proposed 'gifts' sound, my love, I want something a little more unattainable. You see, we've been together for five years –"

"Five and a half," Blair interjected pointedly.

"Apologies. We've been together for _five and a half years_. I've had you in a limo, a carriage, a janitor's closet, on my father's desk… Well, you get the point. Anyways, out of all the years we've dated, there's only one act you haven't performed for me. "

Blair quirked a perfectly sculpted eyebrow in curiosity. "And that would be what? Kicking you in the jewels with my Manolo? I'm pretty sure I've done that before," she remarked impatiently.

"Cooking, Blair," Chuck stated, amused, "You've never cooked for me. For my birthday, the only thing I want is a homemade dinner prepared by you, and you alone."

Blair crossed her arms defiantly. "People like us don't _cook_, Chuck Bass. I'm not doing it. Back to the drawing board for you, pal."

Chuck shrugged and started to leave. As he exited the newly-bought penthouse, Chuck called to Blair, "I'll be back at seven. Oh, and I'm partial to filet mignon." Striding down the hallway with a grin on his face, Chuck knew he had won.

With Chuck gone, Blair was left to sulk. "Stupid Bass," she mumbled aloud as she dialed Serena. The line rang twice and a perky voice answered.

"Hey B! What's going on?" Serena asked.

"Oh, nothing. I'm just about to murder Chuck. No biggie," Blair replied nonchalantly.

Serena giggled. "What did he do this time? Tell me it doesn't have anything to do with that new maid he's hired."

Rolling her eyes, Blair responded, "Of course not, S. Besides, I fired that maid last week and hired a hunky butler named Steve. Chuck hasn't met him yet but I'm sure I'll be hearing about it sooner or later."

"Well what then, B? It couldn't be that bad."

"It _is_ that bad! I told Chuck I'd do anything for him on his birthday and he asked me to cook! Who does he think I am, Emeril Lagasse?"

Serena laughed. "_That's_ his criminal offense? He wants you to cook for his birthday? Honestly, Blair, I think you're overreacting."

"I don't know the first thing about cooking, S, you know that. I haven't made anything since I was seven and owned an Easy-Bake Oven. Even then, Dorota did most of the work!" Blair complained.

"Listen, B, I gotta go, but I've got two words for you: Google recipes. Good luck and let me know how it goes," Serena advised hurriedly before hanging up.

Blair groaned before bringing her laptop into the kitchen and setting it up on the island. Appraising the kitchen stock, Blair noticed that there was an on-stove grill in addition to the four normal burners, and, through further searching, she found the pots and pans that were stacked beneath the counter neatly.

"Okay, this can't be impossible," Blair reassured herself aloud as she pulled a pan from beneath the counter. She turned to her laptop and quickly searched online for recipes involving filet mignon, and to her delight and relief, there were many results. Eyeing each recipe, she decided upon filet mignon with roasted potatoes and French green beans. As Blair rolled the sleeves of her expensive blouse up to her elbows, she sighed in frustration. "The things I do for you, Bass."

*****

Chuck had never been late for anything in his life and he wasn't about to begin then. Walking through the door at seven o'clock on the dot, Chuck threw his coat on the rack and sniffed the air, hoping to catch a whiff of his delicious steak. Instead, he recognized the odor as a burning scent and, as if on cue, the smoke alarm sounded. "Blair?"Chuck called out, heading towards the kitchen.

"Damn it, Chuck!" Blair's shrill voice shrieked from somewhere Chuck couldn't quite see. Suddenly, Blair appeared behind the counter as she lifted a tray of potatoes from out of the oven. Her carefully-styled hair was now frizzy and out of place, and her face was red from the heat of the stove. Chuck stuck his hands in his pockets as an amused grin spread across his face.

"Are you just going to look at me like jackass or are you going to help me?" Blair growled angrily, "I burned my hand making your stupid dinner and everything has to get thrown out anyways because it's horrible!" She jammed her right hand under running water and glared at Chuck.

He chuckled and walked over to Blair to embrace her. "Calm down, Waldorf. I'm sure the meal isn't horrible."

"The smoke fumes and burnt vegetables beg to differ," Blair answered sharply, shutting the water off and crossing her arms in defeat.

Chuck spun Blair around to face him. Tracing his thumb over her jaw line, Chuck said softly, "I love anything that you do, Blair."

"I don't know, Chuck. That steak might be the exception," Blair replied, a small smile gracing her features. In an attempt to prove her statement false, Chuck went to cut a piece of steak, all to no avail. "Face it, Chuck. I am a terrible cook," Blair said with a tone of finality.

"I suppose you're right, Waldorf," he replied teasingly before planting a playful kiss upon Blair's lips.

Chuck followed Blair into the living room, where he watched as she pulled out her cell phone. "My turn to guess. You're ordering sushi, am I right?" he asked lightly.

Blair shook her head. "You are wrong, Mr. Bass. Since your birthday wish fell through, I'll do another thing that you've never seen me do. I'll order pizza. How does extra cheese sound?"

"It sounds absolutely perfect," Chuck smiled.

He observed this new, usual Blair with curious eyes. Her hair was messy, her clothes were disheveled, and all Chuck could think about was how he had just discovered a different part of Blair to love. Blair hung up the phone and climbed into Chuck's waiting lap. "You're going down to pick it up, you know. I can't be seen in public like this."

Well, mostly new.


End file.
